Pawn
by TWDwalker5
Summary: There is a long, complicated history behind Four and Eric's hate. And when Tris appears as a new initiate, Eric figures out that hurting Tobias can only be done by using her as a pawn in their game. But the only person destined to be hurt in the end is Tris. Eventual Eris. Some Fourtris. Something for everyone.
1. Chapter 1

**So I think this will be a short Eris story. And I know, even though Four plays a big part in all this, my priority is Eric.**

 **Oh, I am back by the way. Hopefully more stories will surface from this little inspiration.**

"I just wanted to congratulate you for tonight," Four says, tilting the neck of his bottle towards Tris, "You were brave."

Most initiates flooded the Pit, adding the noise of youth to the already pumped up atmosphere. Parties never stop here at Dauntless, especially in the Pit. For the short period of time Tris has spent here, she had managed to memorize the entire club music CD they seem to play way too often.

"Yeah," she agrees, unable to contain her smile. Modesty was a big thing to maintain in Abnegation. Not here.

Four furrows his eyebrows, as if contemplating if he should continue the conversation. His cloudy eyes hold two pints of alcohol, clouding his judgement. As much as Tris wants to stay and chat, involuntarily her body starts giving off signs like shuffling feet, swaying hips, glancing over her shoulder... she has things to do. Plus, after 'capture the flag' she is too tired for socializing anyway.

"I should probably let you get back to your friends," he slurs, nodding towards the dancing Christina. She smiles slightly at her friend. Celebrations are in order tonight. Their team won the game after all.

Tris nods, turns on her heel and walks away from Four, her hair swishing from side to side in her high ponytail. Too much has happened. Well, too much happens every day here. And there is never enough time to reflect upon it. She has learned that a couple of days ago, and since then has been living in the moment. Dauntless was rubbing off on her more than she thought possible.

Before she has a chance to wonder about where to go, her legs instantly take over. She finds herself heading towards the nearest exit. A door. Anywhere. Somewhere away from the music and the people and the constant thudding and buzzing and pumping against the walls.

She bumps into a fellow initiate, a sting spreading through her shoulder, "Sorry," she is quick to say. Everybody is so damn tall. It's hard to see where you're going.

Then she sees it: the door. Red lights outline the words 'FIRE EXIT'. Just behind a few more people. She just has to get passed.

Suddenly, a total eclipse. The lights in front of her disappear. A dark shadow looms over her body and she is just about to look up at its face when-

"Oh, shit!" Eric's voice speaks mockingly, a dangerous grin slithering across his face. Then she feels it. The cold, wet liquid all over her front. In a split second, her shirt sticks to her skin and the ruthless leader doesn't look too concerned at all. In fact, he looks almost satisfied.

"Err, it's okay," Tris sighs, peeling the fabric off her skin, attempting to squeeze what smells like beer out of it, "I was on my way to bed anyway."

"No, you have to stay," he soothes suspiciously, placing his beer can on the floor near his feet, "Especially to celebrate your team's victory." There is clear bitterness in his voice as he admits his failure.

Tris bites her bottom lip, awkwardly averting her eyes back to her soaking shirt. There is no way this was an accident. He doesn't even look sorry. Or pissed off in his case. Or even bothered.

"Maybe you needed a good cool down," his eyebrows raise and his smile widens, showing a row of perfect white teeth, "You're slipping away from authority, initiate."

His eyes are suddenly cold. He steps closer, digging further into her soul. Tris automatically steps back. She knew he would be pissed about losing... but apparently there is also an underlying problem here.

"You disobey me again," Eric starts, closing the gap between them and grabbing hold of the wet patch on her shirt, "I will show you what pain feels like, you hear me?"

Tris glues her eyes to the floor, desperately trying to control her shaky breath. It is twice as hard when Eric's alcohol fumed mouth is so close to her face. She knows exactly what he is talking about. He has had her cut from initiation and she crawled back without any hesitation. She wants to say something. To stand up for herself. But a regular Eric would probably kill her for doing so. And a drunk Eric... he would make death seem too easy for her.

She forces herself to nod, "Yes."

"Yes, what?" he leans down so that she has no choice but to look into his eyes.

"Yes... I understand," her voice is barely a whisper, but he hears her.

A long moment of silence passes before he finally steps away, "I'll let it slide this time. Only because you have potential to become like me. A leader."

Tris glances up at him to see a small smirk on his face. But his eyes are far away. They are focused on something else. Someone else.

She follows his gaze and finds Four. Jaw clenched. Knuckles turning white.

 **Let's see how many reviews this can get in time for my Birthday tomorrow ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for your positive feedback and Birthday wishes! I'll definitely try to make this story longer for you guys.**

 **Chapter 2 is up :)**

She was through to the second stage of training. It was a miracle. Well, she made it happen. She forced herself to succeed. She pushed herself to breaking point. And all the efforts definitely paid off. Yet, something in her chest clutches her heart. Sometimes she can't breathe. Others she can't eat.

And her gut tightens from the moment she wakes up. Always.

This kind of stress cannot be healthy for anyone. Nothing at Dauntless is healthy. Nothing since the Choosing Ceremony was healthy. Except maybe the sense of freedom.

Yesterday her mother showed up. They exchanged a few words. She was Divergent and her mother knew. But she still doesn't know what it actually means. She is in danger, that's certain. But why? What is she? Who is she?

On top of that, Tris has her mentality tests tomorrow. She overheard Max earlier in the compound. Something about a simulation and fears. Great.

The only light at the end of the tunnel is completing these stages and not getting killed by leadership. Shouldn't be too hard. She just has to keep herself to herself. Be Dauntless. Not Divergent.

Her grunts echo through the training room. It reminds her of a greenhouse... without plants or humidity. And a whole lot of space. So much space. The sun casts a beam near her feet through the triangle ceiling. It's the only light she can focus on. The rest of the room is dimly lit with blue lamps. And they cannot carry the brightness for long. So it's pretty dark for an afternoon.

The red punching bag in front of her seems to have clear dents. When she first came here she couldn't even shift it. And now the punching bag has earned its name. Her knuckles seem to bruise every time she uses them in a violent manner. But she has no choice. Fight or flight. Dauntless is always fight.

Soon enough, her panting starts to burn her throat and she stops. Her skin has been heating up for a while, and the perspiration that has collected on her forehead makes it seem hotter than it is. She leans forward and presses her head against the rubber material, her hands on either side of the bag.

Without any lead up or warning, a door squeaks and slams in the distance. Tris looks up to the nearest exit sign (which is about 30 yards away) and sees a broad figure making its way towards her. It is a man. And by how fast he strides, she can tell that he is not happy.

"Initiate!" Eric's voice shakes the walls.

Just what she needed.

Tris steps away from the punching bag gingerly and folds her hands in front of her. As he gets closer, she sees the dangerous glare he almost always has. It doesn't surprise her. But this glare is different. And that sparks a new fear.

"Who said you were allowed to be here?" he barks, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a mat on the floor. She jumps back. He is getting ready for something.

"I thought," she pauses, looking up at him with wide eyes. Eric folds his arms and sighs deeply. So he is expecting an answer. Tris gulps quietly before opening her mouth, "I thought I could practice-"

"You're on second stages of training!" his voice fills the entire building. Just as she thought. What is the point of answering his questions if he doesn't allow it? It makes her slightly frustrated.

She stares at him for a while longer before taking a deep breath, "I don't want to get weaker."

"You're already weak," Eric spits, "It's a wonder how you even made it this far."

She rolls her eyes when he turns away to look at the ceiling. Surely a LEADER should always be motivating. It seems that Eric always has rules of his own.

Tris jumps from foot to foot uncomfortably, glancing over her shoulder. She has had enough physical activity today. She has to leave. Especially now that Eric turned up. She has to leave as soon as possible.

"Do you think I forgot about your little stunt before 'Capture the Flag'?" he pipes up suddenly, tilting his chin upwards. Err... what does that have to do with anything?

She shakes her head slowly, unsure of how he will react. He laughs.

"Nobody bends the rules except from me," for the first time she notices the thick veins bulging out of his biceps. They trail down his forearms and end behind his knuckles. It seems that his blood is too hot for his body. Subconsciously, her hand rubs at her wrist. Thank god her veins are not nearly as monstrous.

He flexes his muscles, a hidden bulge swimming underneath his skin. There is not a soft spot in sight. Even his cheeks seem firm. Being at Dauntless for two years must do wonders to the body.

"I'm... not going to apologize if that's what you're after," Tris says quietly, glancing down at the floor. Thankfully it doesn't tip Eric over the edge.

"I wouldn't expect you to," his smirk widens, eyes as hard as stone, "But I need to make sure you understand."

She releases a shaky breath, clueless as to what he might be thinking. When all of a sudden, his actions speak louder than words. He turns around and steps up onto a huge mat, where she knows all fights have taken place. She steps back again. He doesn't mean...?

"C'mon, initiate," he grumbles, turning to face her again, "Since you've been practicing so much."

Tris gapes at him for a minute, watching as he twists his neck from side to side. He cannot be serious. Fighting a leader is unfair and not to mention against the rules. Plus, it's Eric. He would kill her with one punch. She knows her answer before he can open his mouth again.

"No," the confidence in her voice surprises her. And it surprises Eric even more.

He raises his eyebrows, piercings shooting up his skin, "No?"

Her voice dries up in her throat and she freezes like a statue, wondering if this will bite her in the ass later on.

"Are you afraid?" his vocal cords shake with rage. Why does he hate her so much?

She doesn't know what to say. She is afraid. Afraid that she won't live to see the sunset.

"I asked you a question!"

She can't say yes because he would cut her. She can't say no because that would be lying. And she is delaying her answer. So even if she did say no, he would be able to see the truth.

"I'm..." her voice trembles, "I'm not fighting you."

"What did I say about bending the rules?" They don't break eye contact as he cracks his knuckles. What choice does she have here, really? Fight Eric and die... Not fight Eric and become Factionless.

Where is Four when you need him?

Tris moves closer to the mat, watching her feet make slow and painful steps. Maybe there is time to turn and run away? But that would look ridiculous. Not an option.

Perhaps she could beat Eric. There is less than a one percent chance but... it's not impossible.

She shakes her head and steps up in front of him, finding how satisfied he is judging by how his smile continues growing.

"Remember what I taught you," he starts, bringing his fists up to his face. They look bigger than her head. She does the same.

Her eyes glance down to his boots. Great. He could literally stomp on her head and make a brain puddle. Luckily for her, she is also wearing footwear. Not everything is unfair. Even though most things are.

He makes his move first.

A sharp _whoosh_ is loud near her ear as he throws his fist forward and she dodges quickly. He is not wasting any time, is he? He just wants to kill her. That is the truth.

Another fist comes whizzing towards her. Another dodge. Eric releases a cruel laugh.

"Come on, Stiff. You're fast. But not that fast."

He throws another punch and this time it connects with her shoulder. Well, at least she ducked her face away in time. She can handle a sore shoulder.

 _BAM!_

Her head jerks backwards as the pain spreads through her chin. She yelps loudly, grabbing hold of it. It will bruise.

She scatters away from him before they make contact again and takes the time to look into his eyes. Glazed over with rage. Wide pupils. And not a hint of sympathy. Figures.

Her eyebrows furrow in an attempt to show him how unreasonable is is being. And Eric grins.

"Ready to give up?"

"Not a chance," she tenses her shoulders and runs towards him in an attempt to catch him off guard. Obviously, she fails. She manages to throw in a kick to the ribs, and it seems to hurt him slightly, but then her hips and grabbed and raised in the air, and within a few seconds she lands on the farthest corner of the mat, "Agh!"

Get up. Getupgetup.

She springs up on her feet. But she is not fast enough. The force of his next punch to the chest sends her back down where she started. The bottom.

The pain blurs her vision. It could be that. Or it could be the tears collecting in her eyes.

"I told you that you were fucking weak," he growls, getting down on his knees next to her. Automatically, she curls up into a ball and covers her face with her hands. But the place she leaves unprotected is her neck. He clutches it with his hand, lifting her head up from the floor and to his face.

"P-Please," she chokes, unable to hide her fear any longer, "Don't."

"Aw, don't worry about me hurting you," his hand tightens, "What you have to worry about the most is how you will hide the embarrassment on your face when I send you down to the Factionless." He doesn't mean that. Empty threats.

"I can't breathe," she chokes out, gasping through the tears.

"Shh," Eric smiles, wiping her cheeks with his thumb, "Now listen to me carefully," he leans in closer, "You tell your boyfriend to stay the fuck away from you-"

"I don't have a b-"

"-tell him I know everything about what he does to get you higher up in the rankings."

She is clueless to what he is talking about. For a moment she wonders if he is talking to the right person. Rankings? She plays fair. And she does not have a boyfriend.

"Don't worry, I will report his pedophilia and then you don't have to sleep with anyone to make it to the top of the leaderboard-"

"What are you talking about?!" She has absolutely no idea.

His grip loosens and she takes advantage by taking a deep breath, "It's okay. The game is fair now."

This is bigger than her. He is out to get someone else. And he is using her.

She is certain of that when Eric straightens up and shoots a dazzling smile to one of the security cameras.

 **Dun dun dunnnnn!**

 **I promise this is the most cruel he will be in the story. Eventual Eris and that, after all...**

 **Please review and tell me what you think! Are you confused? Do you have any idea what Eric was talking about?**

 **I promise it will all be clear!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you yet again for all the reviews and feedback!**

 **I know some of you are a bit wary of Eric because of the way he behaved, but I am trying to obviously keep him in character to make it more realistic. Don't worry, he won't be like that for long. I got this, I got this ;)**

His heart stops. His breath hitches. What he is witnessing cannot possibly be real.

Four stumbles away from the monitor in the control room, not able to tear his eyes away from the screen. The picture is slightly distorted but everything that is happening is pretty clear.

His hot blood rushes up to his face as Eric looks up and locks eyes with him through the monitor, shooting him a smile. No. No he fucking didn't.

Without any hesitation at all, he turns around and storms out of the room, sprinting through the first corridor.

This has gone out of hand. Eric cannot be a man with self-respect if he abuses somebody as innocent as Tris to get to his absolute worst enemy. Four scowls under his breath as he jogs down a flight of stairs. It's his fault. He shouldn't have shown any sort of affection towards her.

His hand lingering on the small of her back. Picking her first to be on his team. Giving her compliments. Four knew that he was being more than an instructor. And Eric noticed that.

It's all his fault.

His anger only increases as he approaches the training room. His eyes are as wild as the Dauntless flame.

Eric steps out of the room, looking smug. Oh, he could kill him.

Four gets to the door faster than lightning and grabs hold of Eric's shoulder, "You have crossed the line."

"Don't. Fucking. Touch. Me." Eric growls, shoving his hand away from him.

There is a small cough in the room, catching Four's attention. He looks through the door frame to see the petite figure that belongs to Tris standing up, her arms wrapping around her waist. She looks helpless. All the confidence she has been building up washes away in an instant. No. It was taken from her. By that fucking prick.

Eric raises one eyebrow before walking past Four, clenching his jaw.

"This is not over," Four says before jogging into the training room. It seems like she is too far away. That he will never get to her on time. But he does. Once Tris sees him, she clutches her neck, limping towards him.

"Eric-"

"I know," he says, scooping her up into his arms. Then he sighs and steps away. He is a leader. That is all.

"Why would he-"

"We need to put some ice on that," he soothes, rubbing his thumb across her chin. Tris widens her eyes and then takes a deep breath. And closes them.

She has no idea what is going on. This feud between him and Eric is a strictly hidden secret. As much as Four appreciates that she deserves an explanation, it would probably sound childish.

They are grown men. And they fight constantly. Over something that happened long ago. But everything Eric does to this day shoves him closer and closer to the edge. He is the one who introduced the rules of being cut. He is the one who is always unnecessarily ruthless. As if every person he has met has done something bad to him.

He probably has psychological problems.

Tris catches her breath and wipes away the last moisture left on her face. Four is tempted to touch her again. To brush a strand of hair behind her ear. But he can't. Maybe by showing Eric that he doesn't care will stop him from taking his anger out on her.

"Come on," he whispers, patting her back and leading her out of the room, towards his apartment.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Tris presses the bag of frozen peas to her chin, wincing slightly. The events of today have her in slight shock. A leader can't do that. It's unspoken of. It's illegal.

She was brought to Four's apartment after the fight. He gave her water, he gave her ice and he even washed out her wounds. There weren't many of them. She only has a bruised chin and battered knuckles. She can't help but feel that Eric was holding back. If he wanted to hurt her, he would have. It was mostly fear that has clouded her judgement. She was in too much shock to fight properly. And every touch from him felt like a knife grazing against her skin. It probably didn't hurt more than her fight with Molly.

"Here," Four says, handing her another glass of water.

"Thank you," she manages a smile.

When he sits next to her on his bed, she takes a slow sip. Her throat aches as she swallows, but she shakes it off quickly.

After a long silence, she eyes her instructor, "I know he is not allowed to fight with initiates."

Four releases a somber sigh and turns his head to look at her, "Look, I know you want to report this. But it would be better if you let it go."

"How can you say that?" she puts down her glass and frowns, "Is everything allowed here at Dauntless? Even spontaneous attacks?"

"Tris," his voice warns, "I will take care of it. I work with him. I can do this for you. It's all on the security footage. You just have to keep this to yourself."

"Why?!" there is something he is not telling her. It is illegal. She has every right to press charges. It can get Eric suspended from leadership. But why can't she tell anyone? Does Four actually want Eric to remain here? This is his chance, why isn't he taking it?

"I think you have bigger problems to concentrate on right now," he says, chewing on his bottom lip. He's right. Staying at Dauntless. That should be her priority.

 **A bit of Fourtris for you in this chapter.**

 **What do you think? Why would Four want to prevent Tris from pressing charges? Ahh review! :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for the delay with uploading this chapter. Well, at least it's finally here so... enjoy!**

There is a shriek, like an alarm, only it stops very suddenly.

Tris spins around, eyes slowly adjusting in the darkness. She feels ropes snaking around her wrists and tying her to a pillar in the middle of the room. She blinks. And everything changes again. The room is full of light. Now there is a fire. Too bright. Too harsh.

It feels like her skin is actually burning. Shriveling up and falling off of her bones. She has never been burned before. But this is what she has always imagined it would feel like.

Tris whimpers in pain, desperate for the simulation to stop. She can handle anything. Not this.

Hang on a second... simulation. She knows. It's not real. She is in a simulation.

Suddenly the fire doesn't burn as badly. The pain becomes bearable. Until she can't feel it at all. Huh. She is probably in her chair right now, being monitored by Four. No pain. Just a deep deep sleep. And his eyes are everywhere.

She thinks about the ropes burning away into oblivion. She imagines the flames sinking away into the deepest part of her brain. The part she never looks into. In front of her eyes, they vanish. Relief washes over her like a bucket of cold water. She waits... the room darkens... and she waits and waits and waits...

Why isn't she waking up?

The concrete walls around her start to crumble, but her heart rate beats faster than ever. Slow it down... That is the key.

The dust rises from the ground, hitting her in the face. A single cough from her ash filled lungs and she discovers an echo. She coughs again. How strange. But when she thinks about it, nothing is strange at all. The walls fell down. So she is in a bigger place. A place with a glass ceiling. A place with punching bags. It's the training center.

"Tris," her voice is whispered behind her. She turns. Nobody. Just an endless arena. It's too dark to see, "Tris," her name is repeated, the 's' being stretched out. An image of a snake pops into her head. She shudders. She has only ever seen them in text books and one children's book. Curiosity washes over her. Somehow though, she knows this isn't a snake speaking to her.

She turns again and again, always a second too late to see the face of the whisperer. Until a hand touches her shoulder. She turns slowly and there he is. Eric.

Not real. Notrealnotrealnotreal.

Her eyes widen as her heart starts drumming in her chest.

His face is just as she remembered it, only his pores are gone. He looks airbrushed. Too perfect. Like a wax figure. Another reason not to freak out. It is as if the simulation is on her side, reminding her that none of this is real. But why does it feel so real?

"You're out of bounds, initiate," his deep voice bounces off the walls in the fake training center.

Tris steps back slightly, shaking her head as she starts to take deep breaths, "No, no..."

"You need to be punished," his fake smile slithers across his fake face. He raises his fist. And it is as if her body was pushed out of the fake world. She lands in her chair, gasping loudly.

"It's okay, it's okay," Four grips her shoulder, sighing, "You did well."

She gasps until she catches her breath. A quick look around and her fears are gone. Simulation room. A couple of computers on a desk. Four beside her. A faint orange light above. She's safe.

Four walks back over to her computers, casting her a worried look over his shoulder. A crease appears between his eyebrows. He captures his lip with his top teeth. Tris can only imagine how awkward this must be. He was watching the whole thing. Instructors are supposed to be there to observe. Control. Monitor. But not Four. There is an underlying feeling beneath his mask.

"How long do you think you were in that simulation?" he asks, glancing at her as he types something up.

Tris scratches her head in paranoia, "Err... I don't know, an hour?"

"Three minutes," Four turns and leans against the edge of his desk, folding his arms, "I've never seen anyone do so well on their first try."

Tris raises her brows, "I have to do that again?"

"Yeah, you have to practice a few times before the final but... you're a natural. You'll be fine," he smiles only for a second. Then his eyes darken and he turns around, as if remembering an unpleasant memory.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It is midnight when her bladder decides to wake her up. She lays in bed for a minute longer, furrowing her eyebrows in concentration. If she concentrates hard enough, she could hold it out till morning.

Two minutes pass and she sighs in expiration. She still has to pee. And all the concentration only seemed to make her want to pee even more.

Silently, she gets out of bed, tugging her baggy sweats up as her feet lead her through the maze of sleeping bodies. She passes Christina, almost having a heart attack when she sees her black eyes glistening in the dark.

 _Where are you going?_ she mouths.

 _I have to pee._ Tris replies, idly scratching her neck.

Christina smiles in the dark before turning over, muttering something to herself.

Tris exits the dormitory, shivering at the cold air whizzing past her in the corridor. It is brighter here, but the lights still seem a little dim for a civilized area. People pass here all the time.

A sigh escapes her mouth and she carries on walking to the nearest bathroom in Dauntless. She would never use the toilets in the dormitory. Not in front of everyone. Right then, she wonders if this is what Christina was so amused about when she walked past her. Typical Stiff, right?

A smile finds her lips. She is so preoccupied thinking about her friend that she doesn't notice a looming figure at the end of the corridor. Not until she manages to walk right into it.

"Watch it," a familiar voice spits. She stills instantly. She doesn't have to look up. It's Eric. She knows it is, "Oh," his bulging biceps soften as he releases a sigh, "The Stiff."

Slowly, her eyes swim up to his face. But he doesn't seem to be looking at her. He is somewhere else. For a moment, she forgets how he mercilessly beat the crap out of her.

"Sorry," she manages to croak, pushing past him as her bladder urges her to continue walking to the bathroom.

"Initiate," he grips her arm, threatening to leave bruises. She gasps, and he loosens his grip. He really IS somewhere else. What the hell? Where is that predator look? Where is that ruthless grip? Maybe he is just tired. It's past midnight after all.

They lock eye contact.

He opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Does he finally realize that he was wrong about his accusations? About her sleeping with Four to get a better ranking? That is if he is on the same page as her. She is still wary about what the problem between his and Four is.

They stand there for a while, him gripping her arm. Tris shielding her face with her other one.

"I have to pee," she blurts out, hoping he would release her. He does.

"Initiate," he repeats, raising his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She freezes, "If I wanted to hurt you, I would have."

Is that the asshole way of saying sorry?

 **Review and tell me what you think :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**It is extremely hard to write a story on my laptop. Especially when the 't' does not work. I have to put up an on-screen keyboard. How annoying is that? 'T' is in like every other word. Seriously. Just thought I'd share with you all.**

 **Enjoy chapter 5 :)**

"You have to stay away from me," Four murmurs, his voice just above a whisper.

Tris shakes her head, eyes glued to the vibrant orange sunset. Everything has been crazy. Not just the initiation, but the new relationships as well. It's impossible to know what Four is thinking. He never shares his secrets, but why would he? He is her instructor.

She has a feeling that what he says does not always come from the heart. He might tell her to stay away, but tomorrow he will probably sit next to her at lunch. Why can't anything at Dauntless be simple?

"What are you talking about?"

"You know," he replies, "You were attacked because of me."

"I wouldn't say attacked," Tris chews on her lip, "I was being trained."

"Are you defending him?"

"No," she says without thinking. He gives her a look, "No. Why-why would I defend him?" Her eyes trickle down to her fingers. She has nearly chewed her nails off, and is now picking at the cuticles.

The warm breeze sways their legs in the air as they sit on the edge of Four's balcony. It's so high up here. At least there is a small black railing to hold on to. Tris leans against it, sighing deeply.

"Listen," Four starts, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, as if a lump is stuck in his throat. A lump that he can't swallow, "It's best to keep you away from this feud. After initiation it will be easier. It won't be illegal to see each other-"

"But we're not seeing each other-"

"Try explaining that to Eric," he scoffs, "As far as he is concerned, you are sleeping with me and I am putting you first on the rankings. So it is best to stay away from me, Tris. It will be over soon," he casts a long glance at her, "Besides, you have bigger things to worry about, don't you?"

Tris bites down on her lip and nods. He is right. People like Eric are stubborn and are out looking for vengeance. When you mix the two together, you have yourself an enemy.

It's just that people like Eric are always hard to stay away from.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

His cold, grey eyes stare straight at her face. They linger on her collarbone before trailing down her body. And then they rise back up.

"Come in, initiate," he purrs, stepping away so she can come in.

His apartment is like any other apartment. Plain. Grey. Full of light. Big windows. No carpets. A small kitchen. And two other doors. Probably leading to the bathroom and bedroom. All that this apartment lacks is a broken wall from which you can jump off the edge like any other Dauntless probably does. There is no balcony either.

Tris walks over to the middle of the room, awkwardly folding her arms. The atmosphere is tranquil, and that is the last thing she expected from a ruthless leader's apartment. She also senses a weak scent of bleach coming off of the floor. This apartment is more Erudite than Dauntless.

"I came here to talk," she says as soon as she hears the lock click near the front door. In just a few seconds, his warmth lingers at her back. She turns around. He is there.

"Need a few more lessons, I'm assuming?"

Tris stops her eyes from rolling and looks down instead, "I came here to talk."

She takes a seat on his black leather couch as he hovers in the kitchen. Why is it so quiet? It's midday, the Dauntless should be screaming their heads off outside. She plays with her fingers as a cold breeze blows at the back of her neck from the window. There is a clinking of glasses on her right. She turns to see Eric pouring a brown liquid of some sort into one glass. Their eyes meet and he clenches his jaw.

"I'm guessing you prefer water," he says, squeezing a cork into the neck of the bottle. Tris nods quickly, "Of course."

A minute later, she holds her glass close to her stomach, trying to remember why she came here in the first place. Quick, make something up. She panics for a brief moment, wondering if Eric is good at reading people who lie. Of course he is. He is Eric. And her luck is never the best.

"Why did you come?" he asks, grabbing a chair and throwing it near her feet before sitting at the edge of it. He is uncomfortably close. And yet, he leans in more, holding his glass in both his hands, a dangerous look on his face. Her eyes shift to his bulging biceps. She swallows a rock.

"Erm," she starts quietly, licking her lips, "I was- I was just wondering-"

"Get to the point, Stiff," he raises his voice, eyebrows knitting together.

She stares at him, slightly afraid for her life. Just like that, the atmosphere changes. The temperature rises. Her face and neck heat up, blood flushing. Eric still looks at her expectantly, brows raises, piercings tugged up. It's too late. She has lost her tongue. She cannot make anything up. And as soon as the realization shows on her face, Eric's features mirror her, a small grin on his lips.

"This is not related to training, is it?" his voice purrs. He leans back in his chair, tossing back the remainder of his alcoholic beverage. He places the glass on the coffee table, "Is this about Four?"

Wow, he is smarter than she thought he would be.

A blush colors her cheeks and she looks down. Her silence seems to aggravate him, "You tell that asshole to stop sending his-"

"He didn't send me," Tris cuts him off, her heart racing in her chest. This seems to take him aback. The anger in his face subsides and he relaxes in his seat, "I just wanted to tell you to stop going after him."

Eric's laugh is as sudden as when you get hit in the face. He throws his head back, all teeth showing. She almost smiles then. But obviously this laugh is fake. It terrifies her to imagine what else he can fake this easily.

"Tris," this is the first time he used her real name is fucking ages, "You shouldn't get involved in things you know nothing about."

"Maybe that's true," she says confidently, "But then you shouldn't get involved with people who are guaranteed to win your war."

His smile drops. His eyes turn cold again. Shouldn't have said that.

She sinks into the couch and raises the glass of water to her lips. She can almost hear her throat squeezing the water into her system as she swallows. The silence before the predator jumps on the pray.

"What did you just say to me?" he stands slowly, towering over her.

Tris puts the glass down, on the couch, on the floor- somewhere. She doesn't notice. Once her eyes stick to his, she cannot break her gaze.

Before she has the chance to reply (which she wouldn't have managed to anyway), Eric leans down and places each hand on either side of her on the couch. If she was having breathing problems before, now was when she would have gone into a cardiac arrest. She holds her breath as his sigh tickles her chin.

"I was beginning to lose my shit with all the Candors we got this year," he whispers, their noses almost touching, "But if you think for a second that letting their attitude rub off on you is a good thing," he grips her chin with his hand roughly, "I'm afraid that you're associating with the wrong crowd."

She speaks before she can stop herself, "Wrong crowd? You tried to kill me!" She shoves at his chest roughly, surprised to find hurt in his eyes. As usual, his soft side disappears before she has the chance to really look at it. The force of her push made him lower his hands. His eyes narrow and he sits next to her instead. Slowly. Cautiously even.

"I wasn't planning on hurting you," he whispers, trailing off at the end of his sentence. He will never apologize. He isn't capable of an apology. Good. What she wants is for him to feel guilty. And maybe her visit will not have gone to waste. Tris turns to look at him, biting her bottom lip.

"Eric," her seductive voice surprises her. He whips his head to look at her, also surprised. This is what she needs to do. By occupying him with another activity, he will stop going after Four. By showing him that she is on his side, maybe he will have enough brains to figure out that he doesn't need to use her as a weapon. Because Eric will think that he is already hurting him. By 'stealing' Tris. He thinks they are sleeping together, right?

Eric leans back on the couch, furrowing his brows slightly. Even Tris is confused. This is not the way to stop a war.

She cannot say anything else. She doesn't know what to say. Her eyes linger on his parted lips. And soon enough, he gets the hint. The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. He leans closer.

Unexpectedly, his hand squeezes her thigh. She gasps softly, still clueless about the whole intimacy thing, "This is why Stiffs shouldn't fuck together. Neither one of the two learns anything."

Tris forces a smile, trying to think like Eric. According to him, she is not a virgin. Since the day her ranks started to go up.

In a split second, his mouth is on hers. She holds her breath, squeezing her eyes shut. The air is still. Her heart stops. Time stops.

Eric sighs, letting hot air shoot across her cheek. You're supposed to breathe?

He kisses her again, pressing into her until her whole head is lying on the top of the couch. She kisses back hesitantly, keeping her hands in her lap. He tastes like alcohol. And smoke. And lots of other things girls like her wouldn't ever come near in their lives.

For a second he pulls back to whisper, "Fuck, you're tense." And then their lips crash together again.

It goes on for what feels like an hour. Her hands end up in his hair. His lips end up on her collarbone. They kiss passionately on the couch until she finally breathes. Until she learns how to let go and be Dauntless and cross out her two fears all in one day.

He is breathless when he pulls away. They stare into each others eyes. His orbs turn hard and cold again.

"You're out of bounds, initiate," his voice full with authority, "You're missing simulation practice."

 **So for those of you who may still be confused- basically Tris had this plan to go to Eric and make out with him in order for him to think that Four's love gave up on him, and he evidently became the alpha male. Four does not know this. Four and Tris are NOT together. Eric thinks they are. Or WERE.**

 **So there you go. Tris had a plan and she did what she had to do, hoping to achieve her goal (which is for Eric to think he has everything and therefore he can stop hurting Tris in order to let it get to Four). Because obviously why would Eric want to beat her up and shit like that if he thinks she left him, right?**

 **Confusing triangle. Please review :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, so a lot of you said that the whole point of this story is in a grey area due to the fact that not everybody knows if this will end up being a Fourtris fanfic or an Eris fanfic. I have stated in the summary that it will include a bit of everything. Although, I do not ship Fourtris as much as I ship Eris so the probability is that it is an Eris slow burn. Moreover, the point of this fic is for the audience to not get hung up on how it will end, but to experience and go on an adventure with both ships- Eris and Fourtris. Live in the moment :)**

 **I hope this clears things up a little.**

She wants to tell Four about her plan. But then a scenario plays in her head, the same as before. She can imagine how that conversation will go:

Tris: Yeah, so umm... I kissed Eric.

Four: So?

Tris: Well, you know... just wanted to keep you informed.

Four: Why?

Tris: Because... well, I thought...

Four: *shrugs, walking away* Do what you want.

She sighs, face-palming herself. This is Dauntless, of course anything is allowed. And Four is not her dad, why would he stop her? Unless he got jealous, but why would he? He's an instructor, and they were never going out. They got pretty close. But that is where it ends. Just like the scenario.

This is pointless. What was she thinking in the first place?

She hears whoops and cheers as a group of friends walk down a corridor. They pass her, smelling of alcohol and bravery and freedom. Her mind flashes to Eric. She smirks.

It's almost 9pm. She did nothing but wander around all day. It's a Sunday. No classes. And Christina was nowhere to be seen. So she wandered.

 _Maybe Eric is at his place._

Wait, so what? It's not like she would go there. No way.

But why the hell not? She has nothing else to do. It's just so random. It's Eric.

Tris sighs now, standing in front of his door. She got here fast. Like teleportation. She didn't even think about it.

Her hand is about to knock when-

"Initiate," his voice booms behind her.

She gasps and jumps a foot in the air, spinning around. He is wearing his mischievous smile. And his jacket is draped over one shoulder. In one hand is a key (she assumes for his apartment), in the other hand is a bottle of water. Her eyes flick over to his chest where his shirt is slightly darkened by sweat, clinging onto his skin.

Her feet shuffle her away, giving him space to open the door.

"Back for more?" he asks, clearly in the middle of catching his breath.

She doesn't answer. How can she? She still has no idea why she came here. It was like a reflex.

Eric scoffs, opening the door, "Well, come in. I guess..."

Tris follows his order, stepping into the chilly apartment. She hears a switch being turned on and the fluorescent lights flicker until they fill the room with brightness. She watches as he tosses everything to the side and kicks the door closed with his foot. Everything happens in slow motion. It takes her about five seconds to realize that he has pressed her against the wall. The scent of sweat and cologne fills her nostrils, making her skin heat up.

She bites her lip as his hot hands run up her lower back. Somehow, the skin on skin contact heats her up even more. She is unsure whether it is her blushing or something entirely different.

"You're mine," he whispers, cupping her chin in his hand, less aggressively this time, "All mine."

A shudder runs through her as his hands squeeze the nearest part of her body. She looks up into his darkened eyes, suddenly feeling nervous, "Okay..." is all she manages to say. Eric chuckles slightly, leaning down to capture her lips with his. An action that comes so naturally to him. As if they've done this hundreds of times before.

Tris kisses back instantly, knowing enough from last time to carry on their rhythm. Her hand rests on his shoulder, feeling exactly how moist his shirt is. He has been running. Nothing out of the ordinary. She smiles as he pulls away to kiss beneath her eyes, across her nose, up her forehead, along her jawline.

She doesn't know what this is. And she doesn't know what his aim is. But she is not about to pause to ask.

 **Quite short, this one. Definitely required for plot though.**

 **Review :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you again for your feedback, it really does help me improve on this story.**

"They were all over me! In my nose, in my mouth- I... I couldn't even open my eyes to try and see how many I was fighting off!"

Tris stirs a creamy salad on her plate with a fork, watching long pieces of carrot stick out from different angles. It is dinner time at Dauntless, and she isn't hungry. Her mind is somewhere else. And it is not with Christina's babble of her latest simulation practice.

"You could have just whacked some off your face," Will pipes in, chewing his curly fries.

"I was panicking!" Christina rolls her eyes, forcing her tongue against her lips, releasing an idle sucking noise, "Don't get smart with me, Erudite. It was really hard."

Will ignores his old nickname and drapes an arm over her shoulders while Al awkwardly looks away, "I know, I know, I'm sorry."

Somehow that brings a smile to Christina's face. And her next reply is inaudible against Will's ear.

Tris forces a chip into her mouth, chewing thoroughly as some Dauntless born leave their table. She has been here for too long and her meal is not half-finished. People are setting off already.

She just can't stop thinking about Eric. His lips. His arms. His eyes.

It's funny to think that he almost killed her when she first arrived here. He was brutal and frustrating. He still is. But now Tris doesn't think of those as such bad traits.

A sigh escapes her lungs. Yep. She is losing her mind.

"Hey," Christina laughs, reaching over to steal a fry from her plate, "What's wrong with you?"

"You're stealing her food, the girl is upset-"

"Shut up," she eyes her boyfriend, nudging him in the ribs, "But seriously, you seem miles away." She chews the fry, folding her arms on the table.

The lie rolls off her tongue as if she has rehearsed this line a million times, "I'm just worried I won't pass initiation."

"Come on," Al smiles slightly, his eyes more distant to his friends than hers are, "Nobody came close to your time. You are amazing-"

"Yeah, what's amazing is that she's gonna knock you right out of Dauntless," Peter's annoying voice approaches. She looks up, rolling her eyes. There is no time for this, "What's your trick?"

Thankfully, her friends blank out his voice by the sounds of theirs. She smiles slightly when Christina drops an 'F' bomb.

"I don't have a trick," she replies, standing up before he can say another word. She nods at Christina in a way of saying goodbye and starts walking towards the exit. Peter yells something behind her but she is too smart to listen. Wow. She has been so preoccupied fixing this feud between Four and Eric that she completely forgot about her Divergence for a minute.

She needs to get a grip. She could be killed any minute. Remember what Tory said... _Remember what my mom said..._

Her feet carry her down a hallway she knows all too well. Within a week, she memorized the whole compound. Even the bits she isn't supposed to memorize. Like the way to Eric's apartment.

She stops. This is ridiculous. He is literally everywhere. Her obsession will soon put her in danger. Death may well happen. Her luck has not been great.

"Stiff," his voice growls in the distance. She bites her bottom lip, positive that she imagined it. But then she looks up. And he is there. Eric. Walking... no. Storming towards her. His feet vibrate the building, that's what it feels like.

Oh-uh.

His eyes are hard as rock. His mouth is set into a firm line. He is pissed. And that is an understatement.

Tris opens her mouth to say something, but a silhouette behind his shoulder stops her speech formation. Her eyes flick from Eric's face, to the figure in the distance. It seems to be approaching her as well, when suddenly it stops. And tilts its head.

"Come here," Eric whispers, crashing his lips against hers. She moans automatically, stumbling back from the force. Is he angry? Or horny? Or what?

His fingers threaten to leave bruises as he grips her head, pulling her even closer to him. She closes her eyes.

There is definitely anger in the kiss, but she can't help and think that she might be mistaking it for passion. Her arms lace around his neck, not knowing what else to do. Eric let's out a low growl as one of his hands slithers down, cupping her ass. She gasps loudly, not expecting any of it.

They are in public, what if someone sees? Her heart starts racing. And again, her emotions become unclear. Is it fear or lust? What is going on?

Eric slams her against the nearest wall, pressing his broad hips directly into hers. She pulls back slightly, a heat washing over her, "Eric," she manages to say, tilting her head away from him.

He seems to know when to stop. And he does. He leans back and gives her space to breathe and slides his hands over to her hips instead. She looks up, expecting to meet his eyes. But he is looking somewhere else. At someone else.

She follows his gaze, squinting to see through the darkened hallway. The silhouette is still there. For a moment she is convinced that her mind is playing tricks. That wouldn't be surprising, to be honest. So she accepts her truth.

Until the silhouette starts to move. It seems to be looking at her. She leans forward, holding onto Eric's arms for support.

She sees toned arms and a square jawline. She sees the tattoo as he turns to leave. She sees Four.

Her blood drains from her head in an instant. Was she really that stupid?

A deep chuckle rumbles somewhere in Eric's chest before he looks back down at Tris. She gulps quietly and starts to move. The urge to apologize has never been greater, even though she does not know what she would be apologizing for. Making out with Four's enemy, perhaps?

Eric stills her, holding her body tightly against his, "Don't go running off now, Stiff."

Something in his tone sounds a bit too sinister. Their eyes lock.

His icy orbs stare at her, pupils dilating every second. She sees something. Something.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" her voice is slightly above a whisper, cracking and breaking as she speaks. A flash of sympathy crosses his face. But that's all it is. A flash.

"Do you know what gives me the greatest pleasure?" a smirk appears on his face, "Knowing that Four thinks I am fucking his girlfriend."

Girlfriend? Fucking? Tris can't even begin to explain how much he is wrong about.

"But we're not... we never even-"

"Shh," Eric presses a finger to her lips, following it up by a soft kiss, "I won't tell if you don't."

Tris shakes her head, trying to push him away. This is wrong. She cannot lie to Four like this. She should have told him about her plan as soon as she thought of it.

"I'm not his girlfriend, Eric," she manages to say. It's pathetic. So much going on and this is all she manages to say?

He doesn't reply. Something tells her he knows the truth. But he is trying to twist everything.

Her heart sinks. Her own plan has backfired.

Instead of calming the feud, she only managed to make it worse. She hurt Four. She enraged Eric even more. And to her surprise, a part of her fills up with dread. Guilt. A tinge of heartbreak.

 **Please review and tell me what you think :)**


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